


Moments of Freedom

by parcequelle



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/F, Ficlet, Fluff, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 17:42:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7115899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parcequelle/pseuds/parcequelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kathryn and Beverly are on vacation, dozens of lightyears away from Starfleet. (Written for the Tumblr prompt: "a confession.")</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moments of Freedom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Oparu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oparu/gifts).



“It doesn’t look like it’s going to let up, does it?” Beverly presses her face against the window of the transport, dismay evident. “I was so hoping we’d make it up the mountain today. The view from the lookout is just spectacular.” She makes a face. “Well, usually.”

Kathryn reaches over to pat Beverly’s hand, allows the pressure to linger a moment too long, just to make Beverly turn around and smile. “There’s always tomorrow,” she says. “And there’s a kind of unfettered beauty in planets that don’t have a functioning weather net, don’t you think? It adds a little romance.”

At that, Beverly raises an eyebrow. “Can I really be hearing this from Kathryn Janeway, the woman who single-handedly defeated the Borg but who would think twice before going out in a thunderstorm?”

“First of all, it wasn’t single-handedly, no matter how badly the newscasts want a hero, and second – Beverly Crusher, are you teasing me?”

“I wouldn’t dare!”

She cries this in a tone far too earnest to be sincere, and Kathryn says dryly, “Of course not.”

Beverly’s smile is slipping out of the too-serious corners of her mouth and like this – gold-red hair framing her face, eyes dancing – Kathryn’s desire for repartee softens into the desire for contact; they are on vacation, dozens of lightyears away from Starfleet, and admirals are allowed their moments of freedom. She shifts in closer to Beverly on the worn seat of the transport, aligns their thighs and turns up her fingers, an invitation to link their hands together that Beverly takes. “It’s true I’m not fond of thunderstorms, but they’re not so bad when I’m—” she wants to say, _with you_ , but is struck with the sudden, perhaps irrational fear that the emotional impulse will prove unwelcome; she finishes instead with, “—not alone.” But when she glances over to find Beverly watching her, smiling, radiant with warmth, she has to wonder if Beverly didn’t just read the meaning straight out of her expression. She finds herself smiling back, saying in a low voice, “We’ll find somewhere to sit and watch the rain, somewhere… cosy.”

The transport stops at the head of the track that curves up into the mountains, the start of the route Beverly had wanted to take; when she sees it, she squeezes Kathryn’s knee and says, “You aren’t too disappointed, are you? That we’re not doing the hike?”

Kathryn has to swallow down the inappropriate urge to laugh, at that, and manages a passable attempt at seriousness when she says, “No, it’s—no, I’m not. I just hope you aren’t?”

But she’s stumbled, and Beverly knows it; Beverly is watching her, calculating, and then she says, “Kathryn.”

It is a tone that rolls doctor, commander, loyal friend, mother, and fiercely independent woman all into one, and Kathryn blinks in what she hopes is an innocent fashion. “Yes, Beverly?”

“Did you actually _want_ to go on this hike?”

Kathryn opens her mouth to fake an enthusiasm she’d honed over childhood years of get-to-know-your-20th-century-roots camping trips, and then closes it; Beverly’s eyes are so piercing, so clear, that despite her embarrassment, she finds her tongue curling onto the truth. “No, not really. I’m sorry, Beverly, I—”

She isn’t expecting Beverly to laugh, though perhaps she should. “Why didn’t you just say something?” Beverly asks.

Kathryn sighs, resigned to the unfortunate fact that her ears are pinking. “Because _you_ were so excited, and I may not be wild about hiking, but I did want for us to come here together because it’s important to you, and—hmmph.” She is cut off by Beverly’s lips, hard and hot on her own, unabashed; in the middle of a transport, in the middle of a storm, Kathryn melts into her, kisses her back, doesn’t care.

“What was that for?” she asks, breathless and tingling, a few moments later.

Beverly’s forehead is still touching hers when she grins and says, “For confessing. And for being prepared to traverse the mountainous terrain of Crellis IV, just for me.”

The computer announces their upcoming stop just as thunder cracks right overhead; Kathryn tries to disguise the way the sound makes her jump, but Beverly’s hand at the small of her back, gently guiding her, offering discreet comfort, gives her failure away. Funnily enough, she doesn’t mind.


End file.
